


Falling Slowly

by WinchesterLikeTheGun



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Red Dawn AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterLikeTheGun/pseuds/WinchesterLikeTheGun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I'm not good at summaries, mainly cause I'm not sure where this is going yet, im just letting the ideas run. But basically this is The Maze Runner in Red Dawn Plot. If you haven't watched Red Dawn, I recommend that you do. It will be centered around Newt and his adopted brother Alby, as well as the resistance, the Gladers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Slowly

A/N: So I really don’t know how I came up with this… well actually I do. Sort of. I watched Red Dawn on Monday and I was like “hey… that’d be a cool story”. So this happened. It won’t follow the whole Red Dawn storyline; I mixed it a bit with some Maze Runner and some of my ideas. I’m still fairly new to this whole thing… so I was kinda looking for a beta? Whatever that is, I'm guessing it’s like an editor? Anyways if you’re interested or if you have any ideas as well, just leave a comment. I’m probably going to write this in various points of views. This chapter is Newts’. So enjoy.

They were at a little shop his mother liked to visit, always bringing Newt and his adopted older brother, Alby, along. He remembers this day very clearly. He revisits this memory almost every night. Other nights, if he gets lucky, he dreams of nothingness. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. He was nine. It was father’s day in a few weeks and their mom had taken them to go pick out presents for their dad. Alby was fourteen and had argued that he was too old for this (he’s not my father so I didn’t know why I need to go to buy him a shucking present!) the entire drive to the store. It had taken Newt forever to pick out his present for his dad. A beautiful set of colorful ties, since his dad was a business man and wore them very often. Now they were just waiting for Alby to pick his. It was getting late and Alby had gone through the whole store twice before deciding that he didn’t like anything therefore he needed to go to another store.

  


There was a bookstore that Alby had always wanted to check out, but their mom had said it was too late and it was dark out, but Alby would have none of it. He begged and pleaded their mom to take him, and she gave in to her adopted sons’ puppy eyes. They’d gone across the street, heading into the dark night, leaving the illuminated streets and heading to the shady bookstore at the end of the street. That was until two men wearing black masks appeared out of the alley, pointing guns at them and yelling for them to hand over their money.

  


His mom pushed them both behind her and begged the masked men to leave them alone. But that only seemed to set them off. They yelled and screamed for her to hand over her purse, one of the men grabbing Newt from his mother and pointing a gun to his head, yelling at her to hurry up. He watched the whole scene, as if it were happening in slow motion. He saw himself, nine year old Newt, crying loudly in the background, large tears streaming down his face. Alby shaking in fear as he watched the whole scene unfold, not knowing what to do. Their beautiful mom staring wide eyed at the man holding her son hostage before she finally moved into action. He knew what was gonna happen, but he couldn’t help but watch as she threw her purse to the floor at the same time the other man threw little Newt to the floor causing him to cry out in pain as a loud pop came from his ankle. Their mom rushing to help the crying Newt. Only for a gun to go off.

  


The scene changed into black skies and a green field filled with tombstones. They were at the funeral. His mother’s body going into the ground. His dad was missing. He’d missed the service they had held for his mother too. Probably went out to a pub to get himself drunk, his uncle had said. Little Newt was being carried by his aunt as he cried his little heart out on her shoulder. Alby stood there, next to his moms’ grave, tears streaming down his face as he stared coldly at the tombstone.  


His father had become a cop after the police failed to find his moms’ murderer. He would spend as much time as he could at the office, only coming home when he needed sleep. Or when his boss was too upset by his aggressiveness and sent him home, leaving him time to get drunk. Sometimes too drunk to get himself home, leaving Newt and Alby to pick him up and bring him home. This was what has happening this time. He watched as fifteen year old Alby drags his adoptive father out of the pub, eleven year old Newt trying to help by holding onto his fathers’ hand and trying to get him to wake up and say something , which proved fruitless but little Newt didn’t seem to care.

  


Sometimes he’d tell himself it wasn’t so bad. His dad wasn’t a bad person. Alby told him so every night. He said his dad just missed their mom a lot. He figured it was true. Their dad still seemed to care about them. And he always bought them stuff. He even gave Newt his mothers’ guitar when he turned twelve. He taught him the only chords he remembered, somehow managing to teach him some parts of Falling Slowly by the Frames, which happened to be his mothers’ favorite song. But once he learned how to play it, he avoided him at all costs.

  


But even then he was alright, he still had Alby to care for him. He would make him food and play with him and he carried him when his ankle was hurting him too much. He even took him to see his first rated R movie when he turned fourteen. They were okay. But every once in a while, he would hear his dad and Alby screaming at each other. Tonight he relived the worst one.

  


He silently watched as his fourteen year old self hid under the covers in Albys’ bed, pressing his palms to the side of his head, trying to drown out his dad and his brothers’ yelling. His father was screaming at Alby that it was his fault. That she would’ve been alive if only he had done something. And Alby, voice cracking, screaming that he should take care of his sons and that his wife would be ashamed of him. That was the first time his father had hit any of them. That night Newt slept alone. The house quiet, only the sounds of his father crying and begging for forgiveness, even though Alby had walked out the door a long time ago.

  


After that his father started acting different. He stopped drinking and he would make Newt pancakes and drive him to school. Alby still hadn’t come home. But he would come by and see Newt after school and he’d leave once his dad got home. Not speaking a word to his father, only ever exchanging a silent nod. Things were slowly looking up. Another scene change, this one sometime after Alby turned 18, when he told fifteen year old Newt that he would be gone for a while. That he had joined the Marines, and that he’d come home and visit. He had cried a lot. It was the last time he saw his brother before he left, and he hungrily watched as Alby gave him a guitar and told him jokingly that he should stop playing with the worn out ratty guitar and start playing with a real one. But they both knew he wouldn’t be getting rid of it anytime soon. He watched as a young Newt stared forlornly out the window, watching his brother get into the car, not looking back once. His father sitting in the table as if…

  


Beep Beep Beep Beep. The alarm rings loudly, quickly awakening me from my light sleep. I’m still in the wakes of my dreams (which are more like memories) as if they had just occurred yesterday. But they hadn’t. It’s been three years, and not once had I seen Alby. Beep Beep Beep Beep. The alarm continues until I can’t bear it anymore and I look up at the clock reading the large red numbers telling me its 5:30 am. Shuck. Minho, that slinthead! He must’ve changed my alarm so it woke me up sooner. Stupid shank knew I didn’t wanna go bloody running with him. I slam my hand on the alarm clock, finally silencing it. “Ahh shuck” I say to no one specifically as I lay in bed a few more moments. I don’t want to get up. It’s Friday and all I want to do is stay in bed and watch Netflix. Dads’ probably gone already and he’ll be out all day, like always. I could just tell him I felt sick. I’ve got it all planned out and I’m just starting to fall back to sleep when I hear it. The light steps on the roof, bearly even audible. That shank. He knows I hate it when he does this. I look at my window, checking if it’s locked, it’s not. Bloody hell. I get up and out of my bed and I run as fast as I can, as I try to reach the window in hopes of making it before him, stumbling as the bed sheets get caught on my legs. I’m so close but I’m suddenly crashing down into the hard wooden floor. And then I hear him cackle, and I know it’s too late.

  


I look up and I see his face. Bloody Minho standing outside my window with a cat like grin on his face. He looks at me and lets out another cackle as he opens the window and climbs in. I scurry up off the floor and back into my bed, embarrassed, as I try and untangle the sheets still caught on my legs. “Shuck, I haven’t laughed that hard since Chuck sneaked into Frys’ kitchen” he laughs as he sits on the floor crisscrossed. “That was yesterday” is all I say, as I make my way to the bathroom and start my morning routine, knowing I have no other option. Too lazy to argue with him, so I just give in.

  


“You know, you should’ve been ready by now. I warned you” I hear him calling out. “And I bloody told you I didn’t want to!” I retaliate. “Ooh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed” he says mockingly. And I know it’s coming. “More like fell off” he mocks, but I’m used to it, shank always does this. I just ignore him and put on my running shorts and slip on my trainers and walk past him, knowing the faster I do this, the faster I get back to bed. I step out onto the porch and wait until Minho is out of the house to lock the door and slip the key under the flower pot. I turn around and Min is already on the street, stretching. I slide up next to him and I quickly begin my stretching. I’m all done by the time that Minhos’ begun his shin exercises, but I start without him. “You’re gonna hurt your leg one of these days, you know!” he calls out as he hastily gets up off the street and runs to catch up to me. “I’m serious, you need to stretch more, you can’t be too careful” he says more seriously. He always has been a worrisome shank. “Good that” I say, picking up my speed and running ahead of him, still thinking about my dream.

  


It’s a while until I hear Minho calling out to me, and I stop and turn around. He’s stopped running, just a few feet away from me. He’s standing there, all sweaty with hands on his head, while taking deep breaths. How long have we been running? I walk back to him and sit on the ground, patting the spot next to me, giving him time to catch his breath. “And you say you’re not a runner, you freakish shank” he says, still out of breath. “Should join the track team, we sure do need some more people” he starts, and somehow I knew he was going to start this again. “I already told you I don’t want to. It’s not my thing” I tell him grudgingly, ending the conversation. We wait in comfortable silence, both of us in our own little world. Until he gets up and gives me a hand. “Come on shank, don’t wanna be late to school. Pep rally should be starting soon” he says, walking back towards my place. “I’m staying home today Min. Don’t feel like going to” “you never feel like going to school. Doesn’t mean you still don’t have to” he says annoyingly. “Come on, its Friday! Then you’ll have all the weekend to mope around and play your guitar. Come on pleeaseee” and he’s whining now. And I can’t stand him anymore so I give in. “Good that. Just stop being so bloody whiny” I say, could never stand that shank when he got whiny. “Oi, who you calling whiny, you slinthead” he says as he turns and starts walking back to my house. “Last one there buys breakfast!” he calls out before running off at top speed. “You’re on!” I say as I start chasing after him.

  


A/N: So no Thomas yet. Just to make it clear, most of it was his dream. It’s just a little bit of background info. I decided to make Alby Newts’ adopted brother. He joined the Marines, and if I got any of the info about the Marines wrong, I just want to say that I just made it up. Anyways, they might seem a bit OOC but hopefully that’ll change as the story progresses. Again, if anybody wants to help write this story with me, it’d be great, we can become bestest of friends and you can make sure I finish the story. Till I see you guys again, hopefully with a beta *fingers crossed* Goodbye!


End file.
